


Santa Cutie

by taekaneru



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas, Crack Treated Seriously, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, cursing, santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21952708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taekaneru/pseuds/taekaneru
Summary: The clock has long crossed midnight, approaching four in the morning. It’s Christmas day already. It will be his first Christmas morning alone.Or:Chanyeol gets a Christmas gift he didn’t even know he wished for.
Relationships: Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 4
Kudos: 56





	Santa Cutie

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the line of some Christmas song: _“Santa cutie, and hurry down the chimney tonight”._ Somehow, this happened. Sorry, not sorry.
> 
> Enjoy your Chansoo Christmas gift. Happy Holidays!

Chanyeol ambles groggily through the hall of his flat, exhausted from crouching in front of his computer. All evening he tried to get the arrangement of this one song he’s working on (for _ages)_ right, but the program he’s bought himself as early Christmas present is still acting up.

He’s spent more time browsing tutorials and blogs than actually getting somewhere.

It needs just a little bit more practicing, then he’s probably finally gotten the hang of timing the different tracks and merging them together.

Sighing, Chanyeol stumbles into the kitchen to fix himself something to drink. Pondering if he is inclined to make himself a cup of tea, he checks the fridge, just in case. Checking the fridge always helps him to sort out his thoughts. Or depress him further, depending on its contents.

There a still some leftovers from his dinner, some yoghurt and a few bottles of beer. The rest of the shelves is fairly empty, as he couldn’t be bothered to go shopping on the day before Christmas. For the holiday itself he is invited to go to his parents, as they always have more than enough to eat. So, no need to cook for himself, he can just go and stuff his face two consecutive days there.

Still.

The clock has long crossed midnight, approaching four in the morning. It’s Christmas day already. It will be his first Christmas morning alone.

Sehun has moved out of their flat share just two months ago, as he and his boyfriend Junmyeon decided to finally move together. After dating for almost five years, Chanyeol almost pressured Sehun in accepting Junmyeon’s offer when the latter’s flat mate moved out. As for the brief time they’re now living together, they seem happier than ever. Their housewarming party is scheduled for New Year’s Eve, and Chanyeol is already half into planning a surprise performance together with his colleague from the studio he works at. 

Chanyeol is honestly happy for his friends _(It was about time they moved together,_ he thinks), although that left him with the burden of finding a new flat mate.

So far, he’s so buried in his studies and work that he hasn’t had any motivation to find someone new yet. Put up an ad, respond to mails and calls, set up visiting dates, hold a flat mate casting – although Sehun and Junmyeon, among his other friends, said they would help with the whole hassle, he judges that can wait a bit longer. Would probably be even easier if he waits for the start of the new semester, with more new students looking for a room. Plus, his job at the studio and his freelance work pay well. _Financially,_ he is not in need of a flat share at the moment.

Nevertheless, even if Sehun had already spent a lot of the weekends at Junmyeon’s, he still misses his presence in their flat sometimes. 

To get home or work all night in his room on songs and music and come over into the living room to find Sehun lazing there, playing games or reading stuff for his classes—he still hasn’t adapted to living alone. 

Then, he’s not killing himself in finding someone to move into Sehun’s old room – he’s not sure he’s got the energy to accommodate someone new yet. Select someone, only to find out it doesn’t work… 

For just being acquaintances, this apartment is too nice; this is more of a space for friends. Or couples.

Chanyeol sighs, rubbing a hand over his face.

He decides to pass on the tea and grabs a beer. Might as well celebrate Christmas morning properly.

Uncapping the bottle, he leans against the counter and lets his gaze roam through his spacious kitchen. He’s only plugged in some fairy lights hanging on the windows, so the light is really soft, illuminating only the barest contours of the room.

It’s more like a living room with an attached kitchen part, as the whole apartment is really more of a loft and only two bedrooms, a bathroom, and his small music-studio-room are separated entities. The remaining space takes up almost all of the first floor of the building.

Next to the couch, there are still some empty cartons in the far corner that Sehun left because he had already stored so much of his stuff at Junmyeon’s flat that he didn’t need them all.

Otherwise, the room looks fairly empty. Emptier than he likes, as Sehun took most of the plants and prints on the walls with him. The space on the wall next to the ancient fireplace is almost mocking him, high ceilings creating even larger white planes.

Time to bring some posters from the studio to hang up. Or maybe he should paint some canvasses himself? When he thinks about it now, he’s always liked painting when he was allowed to let his creativity flow. In a few days, when the shops open again and the Christmas stress has let up, he can go and check out the DIY store Jongdae is always so hyped about.

Slumping down against the kitchen counter, he stretches out his legs when his bottom hits the floor. Taking a large swig of beer, he leans back, head resting against the cupboard. He closes his eyes, listening to the faint noises on the streets below his flat. It’s still early, so there’s not much to hear. A lone car races through the street with a roar, somewhere a dog barks, but that’s really all.

Maybe he should put up some music. Something chill, maybe instrumental, to lull him into sleep so he can get a few hours’ rest before he’s expected to show up for brunch with his family.

Another drag of his beer, then he climbs up from the floor again and walks over towards the couch. Passing the fireplace, he sets his half empty bottle on the mantle and rummages the little storage cabinet beneath the large windows, pulling out a blanket. He feels more like dozing on the couch than lying in bed, so he flumps down onto the cushions, burying himself in the fluffy blanket.

He selects a chill out playlist on his app to play via the sound system, tunes the volume down to low, and browses on social media for a little while.

Eyelids starting to get heavy, his eyes close, and open again, slowly.

Just about to nod off, a loud screeching rustle disturbs his state. Half dreaming, he does not bring himself to even stir, hearing the noise like far away.

But when a loud bang, and another crash, tear through the soft ambience of his flat, he is startled awake abruptly.

“Uhh?”

Chanyeol scrambles up into a sitting position, fumbling for his phone and not finding it. Must be lost somewhere in the blankets. Squinting his eyes, brain now awake again, he locates the noise as coming from the— _fireplace?_

But he’s _never used_ the fireplace, not even when Sehun and him were freezing their asses off last winter when the heating broke. He’s not even sure if it would work if they had tried. No clue if the whole thing even still had all permissions to be operated.

So far, it had only been a nice-looking feature of the apartment.

There is a hissing noise, a sliding sound, and it gets louder.

There are— _curses?_ Someone’s _cursing,_ and as it sounds, _violently_ so.

Chanyeol is partly terrified, partly sure that he’s still caught somewhere in a bizarre dream.

Then, something crashes down the chimney of the fireplace, directly into the little arrangement of wooden logs that they’d placed there ages ago for the sake of decoration.

The _thing curses._

Chanyeol _screams._

It’s—its’s a—it’s a _guy?_

Chanyeol screams some more, pulling the blanket up until just below his eyes, cowering and crunching himself together as small as his body is able.

“Fucking fuck, fuck, shit, _fuck!”_ The guy curses, agitated and obviously extremely angry.

“Fuck!” Chanyeol screams back, _“What the hell?!_ What are you doing in my flat?!”

He’s hyperventilating now, heart racing at 200 kilometers per hour, eyes as wide as saucers. _There’s a guy sitting in his fireplace,_ no, he’s _crawling out now!_

“Ooh my _god,_ answer me!”

“ _Fuck!_ Who has a fireplace and does not use it? Do you even know how dirty this fucking thing of a shithole-chimney is? Do you _know_ there is a whole profession built around the maintenance of these things?! Fucking shit—fuck this _fucking_ Christmas!”

 _”Who are you?”_ Chanyeol shrieks, now watching the guy standing up, dusting his dark red— _Santa uniform?!_ —and rubbing his backside with a deep, distressed frown.

 _“Do you not have eyes?”_ the guy replies, now turning his gaze upon Chanyeol, seemingly unfazed and still mightily annoyed at the whole incident. Besides the Santa costume (it _has to be_ a costume, seriously, _Who does this shit anymore nowadays?!_ ), complete with black boots, golden belt buckle and (skewed) hat on his head, grumbling angrily, he looks—almost _cute._ Handsome face with round, dark eyes, thick brows, small nose and rosy cheeks, full lips, downturned in a scowl.

“Uhh! I! This is _my_ flat!”

“Yes,” the Santa-guy huffs, “I _know._ This is the reason why I’m here. As you do not seem to be capable of using your eyes, I’ll make an exception and spoil the shit: _I’m Santa.”_

Chanyeol chokes on a breath of air, subsequently gasping on his couch like a fish and coughing into his blanket. He cannot decide if he’s laughing or still screaming. More like laughing, anyways.

_“You—“_

“Obviously, not Santa himself,” the guy interrupts, “But one of his official fucking representatives. Or how do _you_ think One Old Grandpa with a drinking habit gets shit done, all alone?”

He pulls the hat off his head, frowning at the grimy smudges of dirt on the white fur, and tries to smooth his black hair down.

Chanyeol is speechless, jaw hanging open. _Santa? Representative?_

This has to be a joke. 

A joke well-done, nicely researched and executed to perfection. Okay—the cursing is probably not so in-character.

“Uh, I—are you kidding me?”

“What do you think, do I fucking look like I want to be here?” he grumbles, raising a brow at Chanyeol, looking his state over (still cowering on his couch, feet tucked in, hands clawed into the blanket).

“This whole mess only started when Byun-fucking-Baekhyun had to get sick or shit. He just didn’t show up and everyone else had already been sent home. These fuckers did not even hesitate to order me on this shit. Just mailed me the job and address, like I’m some fucking shit of a gofer or fucking office clown! _This is not_ my normal job, you see!” 

“What—what is your job then?”

 _“Accounts._ I work in accounts! Setting the fucking records after the purchasing department splurged _again_ on too expensive and too many gifts, pah.”

With a heavy sigh, having apparently fulfilled his rant, his shoulders drop somewhat, and just like that, he does not look frightening anymore. Just—small and cute. Chanyeol feels the irresponsible urge to rub his shoulders through the red coat and pinch his cheeks.

“Okay…” he breaks the silence. Then his gaze falls upon his half empty bottle on the mantle. Slowly, he gets up. He’s a head taller than the guy, at most. “So, uhh, you’re here now—want a beer? I’m sorry, I don’t have much else to offer you, …”

 _“Kyungsoo,”_ the guy speaks up, “Do Kyungsoo. That’s my name,” he adds in response to Chanyeol’s incredulous facial expression. “And yes, as I’m here now… a beer would be fucking great, actually.”

“Uh, okay. My name’s Park Chanyeol.” 

Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow.

“I’ll get you one, just one sec.”

Chanyeol almost trips over his own feet on the way over to the fridge. When he opens the door, the bottles rattle in their compartment.

He grabs one, opens the bottle on the edge of the counter, and turns around. Kyungsoo is in the process of shedding his hideous coat, leaving a black turtleneck sweater and the still ridiculous trousers. He’s further ridding himself of his boots when Chanyeol hands him his beer, fetching his own from the shelf.

He looks at Kyungsoo standing in his half-lit living room, nods at the beer and they clink bottles.

“To Christmas, I suppose?” Chanyeol offers, half a grin on his face.

“To fucking Christmas, indeed,” Kyungsoo replies, both drinking a swig and then flopping down onto the couch (Chanyeol flops, after he pushes the blanket to one side; Kyungsoo sits).

They share a somewhat companionable moment in almost-silence, the music still playing softly in the background.

“Say,” Kyungsoo starts after a few minutes, “Shouldn’t you be asleep now?”

Chanyeol groans. “After what I just witnessed? Some smart-ass _Santa_ falling down my chimney and cursing until all hell has dried up?”

“I _just_ told you—“

“Hey, just kidding. It’s fine,” Chanyeol rushes to say, grinning. “I have worked most of the night and wanted to catch a few hours, that’s right, but I’m more curious now: _How_ does it work, with all that Christmas stuffs, Santa, gifts, flying through the air and sliding down chimneys…?”

Kyungsoo leans his head back onto the couch, a groan leaving his throat. Remarkably, he looks quite at home on his couch, if he does say so; relaxed features, but for the slight furrow of his brow.

“I have no fucking time and business to tell you all that shit. Just now: Sliding down chimneys only works where a chimney _exists._ Surely you heard of people getting presents even though their flats don’t have one? Assumed so. In those cases, they get them delivered like everything else, via FedEx or I-don’t-give-a-shit.”

Kyungsoo turns his head, eyes reading Chanyeol’s face which is next to his on the backrest of the couch. They are fairly close.

“So, the chimney thing is only for— _I don’t know,_ especially honorable customers?” Chanyeol can’t stop the grin he feels spreading on his face. Looking at a similar expression on Kyungsoo’s face, he feels elated.

Somehow, his first Christmas morning alone is not so dismal as he feared. Body warm from the blankets and the blood rushing through his veins, flushed cheeks from the alcohol and an intuitive connection, like a _bond_ to this stranger on his couch… All elicit a sensation like butterflies trashing through his belly. 

He lets his eyes wander over Kyungsoo’s face, gazing at his wide doe eyes. Briefly, he watches the amused tilt of Kyungsoo’s lips, before he looks up and notices what must be a matching flush on the man’s face.

“If you want to put it like that,” Kyungsoo just replies, taking a sip of his beer, tongue briefly sliding out over his lower lip.

Chanyeol feels tense in a wholly not unpleasant way.

“And what’s with my gift?” he whispers, feeling inspired, bold. “Do I also get one?”

Kyungsoo’s eyes flick down to his lips. A hot feeling settles in his guts. They are just inches apart. When Kyungsoo drags his feet up the couch and turns his whole body in the direction of his head, towards Chanyeol, he holds his breath.

They seem to gravitate towards each other, inevitably.

Their lips touch in a soft kiss, and besides a wave of warmth washing through him, a quiet little moan, more of a sigh, forces its way out of Chanyeol’s throat.

Kyungsoo’s lips feel amazing, soft, warm, full, and he kisses with his whole body, winding towards Chanyeol. His whole body responds to Kyungsoo, heart feeling like it lifts out of his chest.

After a few seconds, they part with a soft smack. Chanyeol does not dare to open his eyes. When did he close them? He takes a shuddery breath, then feels Kyungsoo’s lips on his again for a time-stopping moment.

Parting again, he opens his eyes, looking at Kyungsoo, who’s flaming red, biting on his bottom lip and looking down, to where their free hands have wound around another.

“I’m sorry, but this is going to be fucking cheesy,” he murmurs, “but _I’m_ your present.”

 _“Kyungsoo,”_ Chanyeol gasps, reverently, body burning up with what is astonishment, shock, embarrassment and hope. Mostly, he feels unbelievable. _Unbelievably lucky,_ if he thinks about it some more.

He lets his empty bottle fall to the floor with a clunk, lifting the hand to cradle Kyungsoo’s jaw and tilt his face up gently.

“Kyungsoo, look at me,” he whispers, waiting until their eyes meet, lips brushing lightly against Kyungsoo’s. His eyes are so beautiful. Chanyeol’s so lucky. “That’s the best present I’ve ever gotten.”

**Author's Note:**

> _Kyungsoo Cutie Saranghae!_
> 
> Thank you for reading.


End file.
